Never Say Never
by Chica890
Summary: Post-graduation. Hermione, whose parents are terrified of the recent attacks on Muggle-borns, is taken to with 7 of her fellow students to live in a Muggle community...sorry, I'll write more on my profile, no room left. Ron-Hermione! PG-13
1. A Terrible Goodbye

HEY!!!  Welcome to my (Chica890) first all-Ron/Hermione story EVER!  This idea came to me all of ten minutes ago, which is about how long it took me to turn on my computer and open Microsoft Word.  Actually only about the first two chapters came to me.  But whatever.  I'll improvise from there.  Although now that I think about it, I can't use a chapter I took out of Sixteen (which I WILL be reposting soon, don't worry!) because it won't work with the setting.  I can use a different one of the chapters, though.  Or I could just not use any at all and put those two into a one-shot or something.  Maybe that's what I'll do.

Anyway, before I put you all to sleep, if I already haven't, here's the story.  Don't ask about the title, I have no idea why I named it this, but it seems to go with Ron/Hermione stuff.

With that said... ONWARD!

da da DA!

**Never Say Never**

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**Disclaimer: **I do not own any characters, places, or references that you recognize.  Please don't sure me, J.K., I mean well.  And I'm totally your numero uno fan...-o!  Woohoo!

**PG-13:** Nothing terrible, just some language and stuff.

**Chapter One: A Terrible Goodbye**

            Hermione Granger was one miserable girl.  She wasn't depressed or anything, today was just an exceptionably miserable day.  Possibly, she thought, the most miserable day of her life.

The owl had come just two weeks ago from today, bringing the bad news to add to an already horrible occasion.

_No, not a horrible occasion!  Honestly, this should be one of the proudest days of your life!  Then again, it might be, if it weren't for that stupid, stupid, STUPID owl from Mum and Dad._

The owl, a gray tawny she'd bought her parents for Christmas in sixth year, so they could mail her without waiting to get something from her so they could use the school owl, had flown in with the rest during breakfast just two weeks ago.  She remembered it so clearly; it seemed that entire morning had been burned into her skull.

            "Honestly, two weeks before graduation, and my mother is _still _making revisions on my dress.  You can't see it under my robes anyway!" she complained, reaching over Harry's elbow for some more toast.  Ron looked up, his mouth full of bacon.

            "Then wha ah oo wearing ifo?" he said, accidentally spitting a small chunk of food on the owl's talon.

            "Ugh, Ron, please!  Chew and _then_ talk!"

            "Sorry, sorry." he said, swallowing. "Anyway, then what are you wearing it for?"

Hermione rolled her eyes.  "You don't know my Mum, Ron.  Anyway, let's see what she's – oh.  Oh." she was quickly skimming the letter, her heart seeming to pound in her throat as she read it again and again. 

Hermione took a deep breath, carefully setting the paper (her parents didn't use parchment) down on her plate, pushing her chair in, and walking briskly from the Great Hall and straight up to the common room.  Looking around at the familiar room she'd grown to know as her own home for the last seven years – _seven years!_ –, her eyes welled up with tears.  She'd barely wiped them away when her two best friends came in, Harry clutching the letter, they'd obviously both read it, not that she minded at all, she couldn't have told them herself, and looking concerned.  Ron was staring at her incredulously, as if not believing it.

            "I – I... I can't believe it.  You're...you're _leaving_?" Harry said, sitting down in a chair next to her, Ron on the sofa across from her.

            "Right after...right after graduation, it says." Hermione said, staring at the ground so her friends couldn't see the tears threatening to roll down her cheeks at any moment.

Ron finally spoke. "But...but...it says...I mean, a 'disclosed Muggle-only village', we won't even know where to owl you, and it says a three year period at least...we'll...oh, God, we'll never see you again!" at this Hermione wailed and burst into sobs, her shoulders heaving.

She sank down onto the couch and buried her head in Ron's shoulder, as Harry sat down on the other side and patted her back.  They were the best friends in the entire world, the best.  After a minute or two, she looked up.  Ron looked a bit surprised, but patted her shoulder awkwardly. 

The trio stared into the fireplace, the one that was so very familiar they barely noticed it anymore.  The fireplace where hand-knit elf stockings hung in their third year, where Sirius's head had shown up so many times in their fifth year, where Fred and George had tried to light their newest firecrackers – almost burning the school down in the process – in sixth year, where they had found Professor Snape's unconscious body, exhausted from a terribly strong Imperious Curse, thrown (the flames had been dowsed then, thankfully) after Harry had defeated Lord Voldemort once and for all, just a month ago.  They sat for about ten minutes, until the loud clatter of many approaching footsteps told them breakfast was over.

Hermione grabbed a tissue from the table beside her four-poster bed, blowing her nose loudly.  Today was graduation.  It had been wonderful, and terrible at the same time, because she knew, now that her bags were packed, she'd have to go down to the common room.  And then she'd be out the portrait hole, saying goodbye to the Fat Lady, leaving her things to be brought down, and heading down for a last feast in the Great Hall.

Or she could stay up here, just a minute or two more.

            "Hermione Granger, you get that sorry butt out of this room right now!" Parvarti Patil screeched as she came inside.  "This is our last meal and I'm not about to let you be late!  Up you go, now.  There.  Now come on, Lav!  Let's go, everyone.  Say...say goodbye." Even Parvarti couldn't be quite stupid enough, materialistic and self-centered as she was, Hermione realized, not to feel a little pang of sorrow as she closed the door behind them, barely giving Hermione a last glance around the room before shoving her out.

As they descended the stairs, Hermione felt very, very nervous.  She didn't know why, she supposed it was just the thought of leaving, but it made her feel a bit queasy and on the edge of tears at the same time.  Not a pleasant feeling at all.

Finally the common room came into view, where Harry and Ron were packing up a game of chess (wizard's chess, of course), and Neville Longbottom was looking forlornly out a window onto the grounds.  Everyone else had already gone down to dinner.

All six Gryffindors left the common room together, saying tearful – well, only tearful on the parts of Hermione, Lavendar, Parvarti, and Neville -  goodbyes to the Fat Lady, and walking down the stone hallway without looking back.

The feast was wonderful, the best food any of them had ever had, and lasted a good two hours.  But, as all good things have a tendency to do, it came to an end much too soon.

Standing by the great doors at the entrance to the castle, the students gathered into their houses for last goodbyes before boarding the thestral-drawn carriages waiting outside.  Hermione was positive she hugged every Gryffindor, except Harry and Ron, of course, she was refusing to say goodbye to them until the last possible moment at King's Cross, at least six times, every Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff at least twice, and even made annoyed but tearful eye contact with three Slytherin girls from her advanced Arithmancy and Ancient Arts classes.

The trio boarded the same carriage, Hermione sitting in between the two boys.  She could feel both glancing at her every few moments, but all she could do was hiccup and stare fixedly at the floor of the carriage.  Finally they arrived at Platform 9 ¾ and boarded the brilliantly red steam engine that was the beloved Hogwarts Express.

Once finding an empty car and settling down, Ron and Harry sitting beside each other with Hermione and her cat, Crookshanks, facing them, someone spoke for the first time since dinner. 

            "You know, Hermione," Harry said, "You'll have to talk to us sometime, otherwise it will be worse when you leave."

She knew he was right, of course.

            "Yes, I know.  But I don't want to dissolve to tears in front of you two again, honestly."

            "Hermione," Ron spoke up, "Just because you cry once in front of us doesn't mean we're going to change to opinion of the Hermione we've known for the last seven years to be some wimpy girly girl all of a sudden."

She smiled a bit, but still felt like dirt.  She couldn't believe – couldn't believe – that her parents would do this to her.  She'd actually sent them a Howler, although it had taken her awhile to figure out how to do so.  Apparently they thought it would be best for her to spend some time "away from magic" for "safety reasons" and she "knew they had supported it for so long, but it was just for a little while".  Yea, right.  _Three years_.  How could they do this?  Her parents had always been so extremely supportive of magic, so interested, so proud when she got her first letter from Hogwarts.  Now, just like that, it's dangerous and she must be isolated from the rest of the wizarding community?

Hermione didn't know what was going on, but she was positive it wasn't an urgent dentist shortage in France.  Then again, Dumbledore had tried to explain it to her that afternoon.  She'd been called down, during Potions, luck have it, to his office.

            "Miss Granger!" He'd smiled, his blue eyes that she would miss so much twinkling, "So good to see you.  Please, sit down.  I presume you have some...questions...about your parents' sudden decision.  Yes, I know you're surprised, but I know all about it.  They don't know that, of course, but I feel you deserve a truthful explanation.  Now, where to begin?  There are some...concerned parents, shall we say?  Muggle parents, that is.  The parents of Muggle-born wizards and witches, more specifically. 

            "A discussion went on between these parents at the beginning of the year, at Platform 9 ¾, I was informed.  This discussion was about the welfare and safety of their children and whether, after all this time, they wanted their children to lead wizard lives.  Have you heard of the Amish, Hermione?"

            "Yes, Headmaster." she'd replied, swallowing.  It was a true mark of how very intensely she'd been listening that she had not gone on to inform him of the full history and culture of Amish people.

            "Ah, good.  Do you know, Hermione, about what they do when their children come of age?  They give them a choice, you see.  They can go out into the unprotected world and do whatever they please.  And, after this, if they choose to do so, they may stay there.  Or come back into the Amish community.  But, Hermione, if one chooses to stay out of the Amish country, he or she is shunned, and cannot return."

Hermione just nodded, wondering where this was going.

            "This is a bit like that.  A few parents, only about eight families or so, I'd say, have decided to live in a Muggle community for a few years.  Of course, there is no risk of being shunned forever from your parents, they love you very dearly.  It's just to sort of remind their children of Muggle life, how it used to be, and convince them to come back.  For...their own _safety,_ of course."

Hermione saw a slight grimace on the Headmaster's face, and could tell he did not approve at all of this method.  Many parents had been paranoid since the defeat of Lord Voldemort, with his followers everywhere trying to get in last killings before they were caught, and of course going after Muggle-born witches and wizards.  But this was going too far.

            "But, Professor," she said, "I'd be going home anyway.  I'm Muggle-born, remember?  I _would_ be going back to a Muggle community, there's no reason to take me to France!"

            The Headmaster just smiled at her. 

            "Yes, Miss Granger, just as I thought when I overheard this little plot.  But, apparently, this is a new community far away, so that they can try to isolate you from the wizarding world you know so well.  You see, in London, it would be all too easy for a young Muggle-born to simply "wander" into Diagon Alley, as I'm sure most of you would after a few weeks of this isolation.  Therefore, by taking you to an unknown country, where you can be watched to make sure you do not attempt magic, you also can't wander off to familiar places."

Hermione snorted, realizing too late how disrespectful it must have sounded.

            "Sorry, Professor.  But I mean, honestly.  "Young witches and wizards"?  I'm seventeen, for Merlin's sake!  What do they think I am, some young mischievous little girl?"

            "Now, Miss Granger." he replied, eyes twinkling. "I think they know better than that.  You are not, as you say, a mischievous little girl.  You are a mischievous young-adult witch, and a remarkably clever one at that, who is capable of much more mischief than a little girl.  Who knows who you could run into if you tried to sneak out?  It is all too possible you'd find a way form your parents watch, and the only way to prevent that would be to give you nowhere to go.  Now, Miss Granger, are you beginning to see my point?"

Hermione had stared down at her shoes, her eyes threatening to well up again.

            "Yes, Headmaster.  I see exactly what you are saying, but I don't agree with it in the very least!"

            "Nor do I, Hermione, nor do I."

And with that she'd left to begin her packing.

Back on the train, Hermione related this story to Harry and Ron.  By the time the food cart had come around and Harry had ordered as many cauldron cakes and Bertie's Every Flavored Beans as humanly possible, the two were staring at Hermione in utter disbelief.  Ron was the first to come to his senses.

            "But...but..." he sputtered, apparently at a loss for words.  "They can't -  they _can't_ – ridiculous! – you could come to the Burrow, or, or..." he trailed off, looking deeply disturbed.  Almost as though he might cry.  Harry looked a bit the same way, and Hermione burst into tears once more.

            "Oh, this in unbelievable!  I'm a mess!" she said, sobbing into Crookshanks's fur as her best friends sat down on either side of her.

            "Hermione, I just wanted to say good b- Hermione?  Are – are you all right?" came a voice from the door.

            "She'll be fine, Neville.  Just...just give us a minute, will you?" Harry said, though not harshly.

            "Sure.  Bye, Hermione.  Harry, Ron.  See you around." At the last words Hermione was set into another fit of tears.

            "Bye, Neville." she called through her hiccups as the klutzy boy swung the door shut behind him.  Hardly a boy anymore, Hermione thought.  It seemed quite odd.  Neville was a seventeen-year-old, after all, but she still thought of him as the little boy who came up to her on this very train the first day, asking if she'd seen a toad named Trevor.  Actually, he'd been much more friendly than the two young men on either side of her, who had scoffed and made faces when she and Neville had made their way to the car they were occupying, asking about Trevor.

But this was not a time to be reliving stupid memories.  This was the time to say goodbye once and for all.

_No!_  Hermione scolded herself,_  Not once and for all!  This isn't permenant!  Three years, that's nothing!  As soon as we leave __France__, I will owl them.  _

She'd do it right when she got to France, but, with a terrible sinking feeling in her stomach, she realized that with all the watch from the "concerned parents", she wouldn't be sending an owl for a long time.  Three or more years, to be more specific.  After all, what if someone traced the owl and followed it back to where they were living?

            "What garbage.  Following an owl." she muttered, still looking at the ground.

They'd be at King's Cross in ten minutes or so, said the voice on the little loudspeaker on the wall.  Hermione dissolved into yet another fresh batch of tears.

            "Oh, Hermione, come on now, you're making me sad, and Harry, too." Ron said, squeezing her shoulder.  He was not normally the affectionate type, but Hermione didn't even bother thinking about that.  She stood up abruptly, almost losing her balance as the train hit a small bump.

            "Harry...Ron..." she said, hiccupping once more.  She didn't know where to start. 

            "Remember," Ron said suddenly, "The day we became friends?  The three of us?  Remember the troll, and I had insulted you, and you were in the girls toilet, and Harry insisted we go to save you?"

Hermione nodded, wiping away a tear as it slid down her cheek.

"I remember." she whispered, choking back more sobs.

            "And remember," Ron went on, pointing to Crookshanks, "How that dumb old cat almost caught a murderer?  And how I was being too damn stupid to see it?  And how we weren't talking for days?  Remember that?"

Harry groaned from his seat.  "I do!" he muttered.  Hermione managed a small smile.

            "I remember." she said again, managing to look up at Ron without crying.  But just barely.

            "And remember in sixth year," he started again, "When we went to that stupid Valentine's Day dance, and none of us had dates, and I asked you to dance, and you said no because I had insulted _Viktor_ earlier that day?  Viktor Krum?  And I said you were dumb anyway, and you said I was an idiot, and I said you were bossy, and you said I was a jackass?  I'd never heard you curse before then, I must've gotten you pretty mad that day.  And then I said you were probably right, and then you and me and Harry all danced together and looked like total fools in front of the whole school?"

At this Hermione actually laughed.  Her laughter echoed around the car, but suddenly everything was quiet as the train screeched to a final sharp halt.  All three fell silent, Hermione's face still frozen in half a smile. 

Harry stood up, saying, "I'll be right out in the hallway, and I'll come back inside in a minute.  Just a minute.  So it's your last chance." he said, then left.  The two stared after him.  Ron looked at Hermione, his face mirroring the confusion on hers.

            "Huh?"

            "Last chance for what?"

            "I dunno, to steal his chocolate frog cards when he's not looking?  Eh, I do that anyway." Ron said, grinnging.  He dumped all the extra sweets into his bag, handing Hermione a box of Fizzing Whizbees.

            "Bet they won't have these in your little 'Anti-Magic Community', make sure you hide them."

Hermione looked up at the ceiling, fighting tears for the five billionth time that day.  She was fighting a losing battle and began to cry once again.

            "Oh – Hermione!  I was kidding, I mean I know you don't want to go, I was just – I – where's Harry when you need him?"

            "Ron!  I'm not crying because you hurt my feelings, you dimwit!"

            "Not the time for namecalling, Herm."

            "I'm crying because I'm going to miss - " she hiccupped, "You – hic – so – _much_!"

She ran over and threw her arms around him, crying more than it felt like she had ever cried, into his shoulder.

            "Hermione.  Hermione, Hermione, Hermione.  I'm going to miss you, too.  So is Harry.  We all will.  We'll find a way to contact you.  If it's the last thing I do, I'll get an owl into that place.  Don't worry about it." He hugged her very tightly, until finally he let go and opened the door, where Harry almost crashed to the floor.  He'd apparently been leaning against it.  He got up, looking guilty, and smoothed out his jeans.

            "Harry!" Hermione cried, not bothering to wonder what he'd been doing out there, and throwing her arms around him as well.  Then they formed a strange kind of group hug.

            "Harry Potter.  Ron Weasley.  I love you two so much.  So very, very much.  And I don't know what I'm going to do.  I don't know what I'm going to do without you."

            "I love you too, Hermione." they said, and the three slowly made their ways out of the train, where after a few more tears from Hermione, they parted ways.

6 MONTHS, 17 DAYS, 2 HOURS LATER:

**A/N: **OMG!  TA-DA!  Wow.  Wow.  I am SO proud of myself, you wouldn't believe it.  I thought that chapter came out very well, actually.  And listen to this:  this chapter measures 9 PAGES on Microsoft Word!  That is a total record for me!  WOOHOO!  So anyway, you have no idea how much fun that was to write.

Please, please, please, please, please review this chapter!  I really need some feedback, constructive critism is very welcome.

THANKS!


	2. The Surprise

WOW. I am SO happy with this story! I got lots of reviews! I mean they're not like overflowing but I think it's a pretty decent amount considering I only have one chapter up. Also, about 2/3 or more of the reviews (which were almost all positive, some were just pointing out the following...) said that Hermione is turning 18 in a year anyway, so they can't keep her hostage for three years, or something along those lines.

Good point, guys! Lol. I seriously didn't think of that when I was writing, like I said, I had the idea and had to write. So in this chapter I will think of some method to my madness (my English teacher always uses that phrase...oy.), forgive me if it's kind of weird. Like I might just make up something about the laws in France (change it to 19 or 20 or something), but I have no idea if it's true or not, so please don't hold me to it!

Oh, and to all of you who said that her parents can't hold her hostage, I _did_ do my research on that one, and yes, they can. It sucks, I know. But they can do whatever they want with her, as long as it's not, you know, illegal, until she's of age.

SO...yea, that's it. Speaking of Harry Potter, by the way, did anyone see Today on...Tuesday, I guess it was? With Daniel Radcliffe? Now, I think he's a great actor and all, but I'm really not much of a die-hard psycho fan. You know, with the webpages and the fan clubs and stuff. Not that it's not cool, it's just not me.

But has anyone noticed how _cute_ he is now?! I mean seriously, I was watching and I was like "holy crap!". Lol. And he's fourteen, like me. Lol. Just had to mention that.

ON WITH THE CHAPTER!

(By the way, for some reason beyond my control, fanfiction eliminates asterisks and lines and all that good stuff I use to separate Author's Notes and changes in POVs. So I will signify them instead with large spaces. Sorry for the confusion!)

Oh. sorry, one more note! Sorry that this chapter gets a little dull around the part where Hermione is reminiscing about the letter to Dumbledore and the meetings and all that, but it was necessary to explain all that stuff, because it's important to the story. Sorry! Lol.

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**Chapter Two: The Surprise**

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Hermione grimaced as she looked down at her paper. It was a letter to Ron, she'd just finished with one to Harry. She couldn't send them, of course, but wrote them regularly every week anyway. It was her method of keeping sanity. That and the meetings, of course.

There were eight other people from her year at Hogwarts here, including herself. Four Hufflepuffs, Two Ravenclaws, and one Slytherin. She was the only one from Gryffindor, she she didn't know anyone too well. There were five girls and three boys. From Hufflepuff were Gretchen Wylder, Justin Finch-Fletchly, Monica Kiester, and James Albertine, from Ravenclaw were Sarah Gardner and Patricia Mitchell, and the lone Slytherin (ugh) was a boy she'd never even seen before, by the name of Paul Cohen.

Hermione could tell the moment she arrived that most of the parents had done a good job of brainwashing their kids (hardly kids anymore, honestly!) into thinking this was for the best. It reminded her a bit of the times between Fourth and Sixth years, when so many students had been convinced that Harry Potter was a no-good conceited little twirp. Either that or a murderer. Depended what their families told them.

Only three others, besides herself, were being as "rebellious" as herself. Not really rebellious, considering they hadn't taken any public action yet, but the meetings were something. They were plotting in secret, was all. She, Monica, Justin, and Sarah were ones with the only common sense, it seemed, in the whole place.

Hermione's mind went back to the car ride from King's Cross Station. Her parents seemed very edgy and polite around her, as if afraid she might try to hurt one of them. Which she was tempted at doing. She knew that they thought this was best, and that they loved her very much, and wouldn't try to make her do something against her will, unless they thought it was an emergency.

And even Hermione had to admit that it was. Dumbledore and the rest of the staff hadn't quite let on about the true danger they were in, but Hermione had a subscription to the Daily Prophet from which she got the truth. There were killings every day, hundreds or even thousands of death eaters were on the loose, doing as much damage as they could, in denial that their Master was gone forever. And, of course, their aims were Muggle-borns. Many of the Muggle-born kids in her grade had been pulled out of school just weeks before graduation. But she thought this was worse. The isolation.

And so Hermione had pulled out a pen (a quill would be much too messy in the bumpy car) and began to write a letter to Dumbledore, one she actually planned to send, on plain loose-leaf paper. She had sent Mavis, the gray tawney that had brought the news in the first place, straight to him. It would take three days, she was told, to get to France, and she explained the great urgency of his reply, which must come by night and before three days were up. But it had been no help.

The letter she sent had been desperate, begging a way she could leave, or some law against keeping her in France. Wasn't there some age limit where she was free of her parents?! There had to be, obviously.

_Miss Granger,_

The letter had said,

_ I am sorry I cannot be of greater help to you. You may feel trapped right now, but you know that your parents love you very much and are only looking out for your wellbeing. I have been informed that seven other families have decided to go to __France__ after graduation as well, and I hope that you find some familiar faces. _

_ But I must ask you, please, to keep an open mind. There is a law, in fact, that you are free of your parents' care once you turn 19, but you are only 17, and just. Though I don't agree with your parents' decision, I do not wish for you to go against their wishes._

_Good luck to you, and I trust you will find a way to keep the witch in your blood within you._

_Professor Albus Dumbledore_

Hermione had received the owl, a very exhausted owl, on the second night in her hotel room. She'd actually shed a few tears over it (she'd been in that kind of mood lately), but understood where the Headmaster was coming from. It wasn't as though she were being kidnapped, but...different. It was quite hard to explain to anyone who hadn't been in the same situation. It were as though, she had once written in a letter to Ron, someone like Mrs. Weasley suddenly decided to do the same thing to him, or something just as outrageous. It was completely unbelievable and unlike her parents, but she supposed unconditional love could do that to people in a time of danger.

The meetings had started a week or so after she and the others had arrived in France, and moved into what was actually quite a cozy little house. She was next door to the girl named Gretchen (on the other side was a Muggle who she didn't know – there were other people living in the little town, too, not just the eight families), and down the street lived Justin and Paul. The eight families often ate dinner together at nights, as the parents encouraged their children to bond and become friendly. Although Hermione suspected that they also wanted the others to convince the four "rebels" (ha, ha) to come back to Muggle society. Luckily, it wasn't working. Although the bonding thing was going quite well. Except that the adults didn't understand why Hermione and Paul simply refused to talk to each other.

Hermione, in fact, did (at the beginning) try to be a bit civil with him, imagining what it might have been like to be sorted into Slytherin, being of Muggle decent and everything. She herself had been called a Mudblood on numerous occasions. In fact, Hermione began to wonder if the Sorting Hat really was coming loose at the seams (no pun intended), sorting him into the house that favored blood over everything else. But she didn't ask, because frankly she didn't want that much to know.

After dinner one night, Hermione approached Sarah (who was very quiet and not good friends with Patricia, the only other Ravenclaw). She had begun to make discussion, when Sarah's eyes had suddenly welled up with tears.

Hermione had not far from panicked, not used to making people cry, but soon learned that Sarah was just missing her boyfriend, a nice boy named Rob who Hermione knew from her Advanced Ancient Arts class. Sarah, in fact, shared the same feelings as Hermione about France. After many conversations with the others, Sarah and Hermione had picked out who had the same feelings as them, and begun the meetings.

At the first meeting, Hermione had transfigured sticks and flowers into what appeared to be wands. It was quite obvious, really, and she was surprised she hadn't thought of it earlier. She knew the parents would want to confiscate the _ever so dangerous_ wizarding tools, and Hermione, Sarah, and the others handed in the fakes just two days later.

Hermione shook herself. _Enough! Just finish with the letter before the candle goes out, it's already half gone! And it's not like you can turn on a light at night around this place without people wondering what you're up to._

She groaned and picked up her pen again, glaring at the very un-parchment-like piece of paper. She'd grown so used to the elegant quills and parchments, it was almost a drag to have to write with the more convenient but uglier pen and paper.

_Dear Ron,_

_Hello again. I've just finished my letter to Harry. I hope you're still trying to get in that owl, because I can't actually send any of these letters unless you come up with a plan. Yesterday I had another one of my meetings. It's so good to hold a wand! We worked some more on practicing some more difficult spells, we finished practicing the basic ones last week. It's not like we're learning anything, (sigh.), how could we? But it's to practice so we don't forget. I've explained this to you about 5 times already, but haven't sent any of the letters, so I'm saying it again. I miss you. I really, really miss you. And Harry, of course. And Ginny. And your Mum. And my mom, for that matter. It seems as though she's a different person, she's so taken over by this paranoia. I'm getting a bit sappy, sorry. Well, got to go before I burn down the house with this candle. I'd say write back, but I might go to tears when I started to write that in Harry's letter. _

_Love, Hermione_

Hermione glanced at the digital clock on her bedside table. Admittedly, it was nice to have electricity again. It was much more convenient, although she did quite enjoy the way of life she'd experienced at Hogwarts.

It was 5:27, almost time for dinner.

Hermione locked up the two newly-written letters in a small red box she'd gotten at a shop in London years ago, and stuffed it into her drawer.

Then, from the same drawer, she pulled out a small calendar. Wizards hardly used calendars anymore, but she'd bought this one in Hogsmeade the weekend after she got the letter from her parents. It was full of scenes from the tiny all-magic town, and the pictures moved, as all wizard photographs did.

She'd been checking off days since the middle of June, when she arrived in France the first day. She checked off December 23. 6 Months, 17 Days, the little box read. She'd been here almost seven months! It seemed like it had been much shorter and much longer at the same time.

Hermione sighed, watching the little people mill in cloaks mill around outside Honeyduke's. She flipped through all the months, as she often did, just to get a glimpse into the wizarding world.

A knock came at the door. Blinking a few times to warn off oncoming tears, Hermione shoved the calendar back into the door, quickly locking it and sticking the key in her pocket.

"Come in." she said, in what she hoped was a casual voice.

"We're going to leave for dinner, dear." her mother said, sticking her head in the doorway. A few tiny flurries escaped into the warmth with her, only to melt instantly as they landed on the ground. It was still too early for real snow, but Hermione had always liked flurries.

"Okay, Mum," she relied, grabbing her jacket and heading out the door. It was a pleasant ride to the dining hall, a place where many people in the tiny village came to eat. It was a bit like a summer camp Hermione had attended when she was eight, only with better food, of course. Once they had ordered and paid, the Grangers got a table next to the Kiesters. While the adults were busy discussing the computer classes the "children" were taking (there had been no such thing as Hogwarts, and Hermione hadn't bothered to learn how to properly use one over her vacations, not seeing how she'd need to know. Little did she know she wouldn't be leading a magic adult life, but a Muggle one, at least for the time being, and the parents seemed to think it was quite an important skill to have), Monica slipped Hermione a note scrawled on a paper napkin.

_Meeting tonight- 7?__ Reviewing charms._

Hermione nodded, crumpling the napkin and stuffing it in her pocket. Charms weren't her favorite, but it was important to review anything, or they might forget it. And that was unacceptable.

Two hours later, Hermione found herself sitting in the computer room, established in Justin's house for all the teenagers to use, along with Justin, Monica, and Sarah. They had all told their parents they were going to a class, making up something about keyboarding skills.

In fact, they were reviewing hovering and shrinking charms. Not exactly related, but they weren't particular what they reviewed, just as long as it was everything they remembered.

"Apprictum Motus. Wingardium Leviosa." Monica said, promptly shrinking and then lifting a chair in the corner. "Oh, this is nothing. I wish we could get some books, then we could actually do something _new_!" she complained, a very ambitious person. Hermione had taking quite a liking to her. Monica brushed her short, dark out of her face, her brown eyes focusing this time on a computer.

"No! No. A chair we can make larger again, but who knows what will happen if we mix magic and electricity?" Justin said. He had brown hair and eyes, and was quite tall, with a long pointed nose.

Sarah, with her long blond hair and blue eyes was quite pretty, but very quiet around others. Except in the meetings. She was very smart, and had a tendancy to be terribly take-charge around her peers, often obnoxious and bossy. Hermione found this quite surprising, given her first impression of Sarah.

"Yes, Monica, really. And who knows what you could do anyway? The 'tum' in your 'Apprictum' is much too drawn out, it should be short and snappy. See? Look how much cleaner my chair looks. Yours looks a bit uneven and wobbly, like some parts are more shrunk than others."

Hermione inwardly groaned, having a flashback of herself when she was twelve. No wonder Harry and Ron had hated her at first.

"Sarah." Monica said, obviously making an effort to be patient. "I have been doing this charm since my fourth year, and Professor Flitwick had nothing to say about it, so I don't see why you should."

Things went on like this for about another half an hour, until they went home.

Hermione opened her door and stepped inside the warm house.

"Hello, dear. How have you been doing with those computers?" her father asked, smiling at her from the chair he was reading in.

"Quite well, Dad, they're really fascinating. It's interesting to see how Muggles have gotten along without magic."

"Well, we do try." he said, smiling and offering some hot chocolate. Hermione declined, wanting to be alone in her room. She started down the hallway to her door, which creaked a little as she opened it and stepped inside.

She plunked down on her bed, staring at her secret drawer. It was the only comfort she had left. Hermione pulled the key from her pocket, also taking out and shredding her note, making sure no one would find it. She put the key in the tiny lock and pulled out her calendar, again flipping through the moving pictures.

As she saw scene after scene, her vision became more and more blurred with tears. By the time she got to November, the fifth was a bit wet. She wiped her eyes quickly, and threw the calendar at the wall. There was no use reminiscing!

But suddenly something caught her eyes, something that must have been taped to the back of the calendar, because she hadn't noticed it before. Something that, surely, could not have been there before, or she would have noticed it.

_Hermione - __Tomorrow, edge of woods.__Midnight__.__ Important. Come alone, and tell no one._

Hermione recognized the handwriting as what was probably Justin's, it was a boy's. And the note wasn't signed, something members of the meetings were always careful about. They didn't want anyone to know what they were up to, after all. She folded the note and stuck it in her drawer.

"Duh, I won't bring or tell anyone. Honestly, Justin, what do you think I am?" she said, realizing that she had both said "duh", and was talking to herself at the same time. "I'm a mess." she said softly, retrieving the calendar and putting it and the note back into her drawer.

The next day Hermione woke up bright and early. She rushed into the kitchen, oddly happy. But who could be upset on Christmas Eve?

"Good morning, honey!" her mother said from the stove, where she was making breakfast. "Happy Christmas Eve!"

"Happy Christmas Eve, Mum." she said, kissing her on the cheek. The presents were never opened until Christmas morning, of course, but she was excited nonetheless. Plus there was the prospect of another meeting, this one more secret than ever, tonight. Usually there was only one a week.

The day went by fairly quickly, Hermione lounged around her house and didn't do much of anything except read. After dinner, she found herself sitting at her desk once more.

The clock on her table read 9:17. Just a few more hours! Hermione pulled out some paper and a pen from her secret drawer.

_ 24 December_

_Dear Harry,_

_Hi! I know I just wrote yesterday, but it's Christmas Eve and I don't have much more to do. I have an extra-secret meeting tonight, in the forest at __midnight__, as opposed to after dinner in various public places where it sounds believable to be. It sounds exciting though, don't you think? Anyway, I've been missing you and Ron more and more lately. It's terrible here, but not so bad at the same time. That made no sense. It's not so bad, the things we do and the people and everything, I guess I meant that the entire idea of it, this whole isolation thing, and knowing that I'm part of it, is the terrible part. _

_ Yes. That's what I meant. So...where are you? What are you doing? Where have you been? I hope you're not still at the Dursley's. Maybe you and Ron are together, even. In that case, hi Ron! Anyway, I miss you both very much. More than you can imagine. I just want to leave! I'd better go, before I start with this nonsense crying business again._

_Love, love, love,_

_ Hermione_

Hermione followed the usual procedure of hiding and locking up the letters and supplies, then pretended to go to sleep, claiming to her parents that she was tired.

Hermione looked at her clock, alarmed. Had she dozed off?! What time was it?!

11:53. Good. She quietly pulled on a jacket, praying that her parents had gone to sleep. Apparently they had, since she heard no signs of anyone waking up when her door creaked. She tiptoed to the door, peering out the window. It was snowing!

The ground was blanketed in a lovely white. It sparkled in the moonlight. She gazed at it for a moment before opening a small closet and pulling out her boots. She also wrapped a scarf around her neck, not knowing how long the meeting would be.

She pulled the door open, being blasted with cold air, and stepped outside into the silent night. Hermione started off towards the woods near her house, shivering a bit. It took about five minutes to get there, and by the time she did she was quite cold indeed.

She stood, hugging herself a little, wondering where exactly she was supposed to meet the others. The paced back and forth a little, more in an attempt to keep warm than to look for anyone.

Suddenly she gasped. There, about fifteen feet away or so, was a small box. It was wrapped in red, with a large, red bow. It reminded her of Gryffindor, she thought with a smile. She walked towards it, quite curious as to what a present was doing outside in the middle of the night.

"What is this?" she said softly. "It's not even Christmas yet!" she picked it up, examining it closely.

"Actually," a voice said from behind her. "It's 12:01. Happy Christmas, Hermione."

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**A/N:** WOO-HOO! Let's hear it for cliffhangers!

So, how was that chapter? I know, I know. It was a little filled with dull (but necessary) information. Sorry if it dragged on a bit. Please, please, please, please, PLEASE review!

Need I say more?

Wait, yes! This chapter is TEN PAGES LONG ON MICROSOFT WORD! That's a total record! YEEHAW!

Oh, and one more thing. I know Hermione's birthday is September 19, even though it's not sure whether she's fifteen in the fifth book of fourteen. In this case, I made it fourteen, which means she was sixteen when she graduated, but is seventeen now. Which explains why Dumbledore said she was seventeen, and "only just", because she got out of Hogwarts in June and now it's December and she's seventeen now. Yea.

Wait, another thing. Two, actually. One is that I know I kind of randomly stuck in that little bossiness on Sarah's part, but once I started describing her I realized she was a total Mary Sue, so I panicked, lol. Well not quite panicked. But that will also come into play later in the story, I think, so it really wasn't TOTALLY random.

The other thing is that, if any of you noticed, Hermione's dad didn't get mad at all when she was talking about how it's "amazing how Muggle get on without magic," and all that. I did this purposely to kind of show that her parents aren't trying to be cruel and they're not like the Dursley's with the magic-phobia thing, they really are just very concerned and are taking extreme steps. Thanks!

Review! (please)


	3. The Great Escape

Hey! So I was strongly disappointed in you all for the lack-of-reveiws for chapter two.

Strongly, strongly disappointed.

Excuse me, I just need a moment... ok.

As I was saying, I thought maybe this was because I didn't give reviewers enough credit. So I would give a big warm thank-you to...(in the order they reviewed)

**Padfoot****-Dreamer (not because she was first, but she reviewed chapter two so I put her first. Yay Allison!), Shadowed Past, sg360girl, the-love-of-Ron, Lesa, tsk tsk, and LuvHarryPotter712 (I emailed you, by the way!)**

Yep. Thanks, you guys! You're the best! You all get gold stars, and if you review chapter three, you get a smiley-face sticker! Woo-hoo! Now on with the chapter!

No, wait, one more **very important announcement**! Up until now (I'm not sure if it will show up yet in this chapter or not), Ron and Hermione DO NOT REALIZE THEY LIKE EACH OTHER. So if any of you are going to review chapters one and/or two and be like "OMG when so-and-so said blah-blah-blah you made it sooo obvious", don't. It really is just platonic best-friend-love. I swear. It may or may not turn into something more in this chapter, probably not. Actually, almost definitely not. So don't say that for this chapter, either.

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**Chapter Three: The Great Escape**

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Hermione's now icy breath caught in her throat. It wasn't, it _couldn't be_...but the voice sounded all too familiar.

She spun around, her eyes searching in the darkness, as shadowy figure about six inches taller than her stepped out from the dark woods.

Hermione grinned as she saw him. "You...you pronounced my name right."

Viktor laughed and rushed toward her, planting a kiss on her cheek.

"I'm so sorry I could not be here sooner, Hermo...Herm..._Hermione_! You see? I have practiced!"

Hermione laughed, ecstatic and terribly let down at the same time. She hadn't seen Viktor since the summer she spent in Bulgaria after sixth year. But a small, small part of her wished that he was Harry or Ron. But never mind that. If he could be here, when her two best friends in the world couldn't, then very well. She would have to move on.

"How did you get here?" she said, still grinning from ear to ear and clutching the little box.

"Vell, it vas very hard to do. You see, they are expecting the vizards to come by magic! And so, I come by car. But they have the road into the town closed, and so they ask for my identification. I go to hand it to them, but I forget that the picture is moving! Right when I am about to give it to the man, I remember! I yank it back and then, I start to panic. The man, he is screaming at me, asking me vat is going on? I don't know vat to do, and so I drive avay, very very fast, the way I come from."

Hermione was listening with her mouth hanging open. What kind of place _was_ this where I guy couldn't get in without an I.D.? She had to hand it to them for security, but still.

"You...you learned how to drive?"

"Ah, yes, Hermi-o...Hermione! Yes, I did. It vas all part of the reason I could not be here, but the driving, it is harder for me than the broomstick, and so it took me two month to learn. But I learn, and I get here!"

"Oh, Viktor, that's just so..." Romantic? Wonderful? Amazing? "...sweet of you! Oh, I'm so glad that you're here!"

"Yes, I am too, Hermione. But you see, after I am driving avay, I am still much determined to be here! To see you, of course! And so I am driving to the edge of these woods, and I am placing invisibility charm on myself. I am walking through woods for long time, maybe two hours, I am thinking. And there are no guards? No, yes, there are. They are at beginning of woods, but that is all. And so I am making myself invisible, and they, being Muggles, are not detecting magic. And so I come into this town, and I see a person on the street. He is shorter than me, and he has dark hair and eyes? You know him, maybe? He says his name is Paul, and asks for my autograph. I know he is not a Muggle. I say I give it to him if he tell me where Hermione Granger is living. He says okay. And so I come into your house, around six o'clock, and find that the house is empty."

"We were at dinner..." Hermione murmured, still in shock.

"Yes, yes. And so I look around, and find what to be your room. I don't know where to leave my note, where your mother and father will not find it. And so I see a small chest, it is locked. I suppose that only you have the key, and so I decide that this is a good spot."

"But...how did you open it?" Hermione said, still a bit dazed.

Viktor cocked an eyebrow at her. "Alohomora..." he said a bit cautiously, as if she might be sick.

"Oh - duh!" Hermione said as she slapped herself on the forehead, not sure whether she was doing it because she totally forgot about the charm, or because she had just used the word 'duh'. "Sorry...I'm a little out of it..."

Viktor grinned at her. "It is no problem. And so...vell, you know the rest I suppose. I vasn't sure whether you vould get the note, but I say to myself that I wait every day for a veek, and if you not come, than so be it. But you are here! You come on very first day!"

Hermione laughed, hugging him again. Viktor laughed, too, gesturing to the present in her hand.

"Open it!"

"Oh – of course – but I didn't get you any-"

"Open my present for you, Hermi...Hermione!"

"Oh, alright. But not yet. We have to leave, very soon. Now, even. Let me go back to my house, and get a few of my things, and then I'll be right out. We should go as soon as possible. So I'll just –"

"Hermioninn...Hermione, I get you this present special, you open now! Please? And then get things and then ve leave?"

"Oh – of course, very well. I'm sorry, Viktor, I didn't mean to be rude or anything, I was just-"

He yanked the present from her and held it in front of her face, laughing. Sheepishly, Hermione took it and opened the box. It was a tiny book, labeled, _Everything You Need to Know about Basic Quidditch_. Hermione laughed, remembering how devastated Viktor had been to find that she knew next to nothing about the sport.

"Thank you, I love it! I'll go get my things, wait here!" and with that she raced back to her house, tiptoeing into her room and shutting the creaky door quietly behind her, still holding the book.

Hermione yanked open her closet door, removing the trunk she had used at Hogwarts, which was now quite dusty, and throwing in her clothes and books. Then she reached up into a corner on the top shelf of her closet and pulled out her Hogwarts uniform and cloak. Breathing in their familiar smell, she put them into the trunk as well.

Next, Hermione quickly unlocked her "secret drawer" and spilled the contents into the trunk, along with her quills and parchment and schoolbooks, her letters, and her calendar. Looking around the room a last time, Hermione grabbed her wand and opened the door as silently as possible, feeling even a bit sad to be leaving the now rather familiar room.

Suddenly she thought of something, rushing back into her room and opening the trunk again. Pulling out parchment, a quill, and an inkwell, Hermione smiled at not using a pen. She wrote two letters.

_Mum and Dad-_

_ I know that you think that keeping me here is for the best, but I'm afraid it is not. You've been so concerned with keeping me safe that I believe it has blinded you. There is witch blood in me for a reason. And now I must go. As hard as it is for me to be writing this...I can't be here anymore. It's driving me mad. You've taken me away from my friends and everything I've come to know over the last seven years. It really isn't fair anymore. I'll write you as soon as I arrive at my destination, which I don't know yet, and I beg you not to come looking for me._

_ I love you both very much, and I ask you to let me be the adult that I am. You know I'm independent and that I can handle myself. _

_ Much love, Hermione_

Hermione brushed away the tears she was shedding, from both anger and sorrow, and went on to her other piece of parchment.

_To Monica, Justin, and Sarah: Continue your computer lessons! And I will write you as soon as I can. _

_Love from, Hermione._

Placing both letters on her desk, Hermione headed out the creaky wooden door a last time, down the hallway, and out into the snow. Trudging along with her trunk took longer than just walking, but she arrived at the edge of the woods in ten minutes' time. Viktor grinned and carried her trunk into the woods.

"Hold on," Hermione said, pulling out her wand, "Locomotor, trunk," she recited, as the trunk hovered into the air in front of her.

"Alright, Hermio...Hermione. Now we walk very fast, until we get to the road, vere the car is vaiting."

The walk was long and cold, but worth it all the time. After about an hour and a half, they arrived, chilled to the bone, at a rusty little blue car.

"Ta-da! I make it invisible as vell before I leave, the guards are far avay from here, though. You like it? I get it at good price, and I drive it very vell. You see. Now, ve put trunk in back, and ve drive!"

They did just that, for about twenty minutes. The two sat in silence as they drove along the empty road. Hermione doubted at times whether the little car would make it up a few of the hills, but it always pulled through. Around one o'clock, Viktor broke the silence.

"I am so glad you are here, Hermione. I have been thinking about you much."

Hermione smiled, kissing him gently on the cheek. She asked a question that had come to her mind on the walk through the woods.

"Viktor? How did you...er...know where I was?"

"Ah." He smiled knowingly, "I have my ways, Hermee...Hermione." She just shrugged, looking out the window at the passing scenery.

"Have you read my book?" Viktor asked, about ten minutes later.

"Oh! I almost forgot. Some reading would do me good, I think, I don't want to drift off. _Accio__ book_!" Hermione said, pulling out her wand, as the trunk behind he unlatched and the book floated towards her.

She flipped through the pages, smiling at the little moving pictures she had missed so much. Chapter one was about the rules and regulations, which she kind of knew, and which bored her greatly. Pretending to be interested, Hermione looked instead at the pictures as she flipped slowly and finally arrived at chapter two, which was about the different teams in the professional leagues.

Hermione looked at these pages with moderate interests, until she opened to a violently orange page.

Hermione's breath caught in her throat as she looked at the Chudley Cannons, all of whom were waving at her enthusiastically from their page, and she was reminded forcefully of Ron. Hermione looked quickly out the window, trying to hide the tears that had surfaced once more. Hermione slammed the book shut and tossed it over her shoulder. She felt Viktor's wondering gaze upon her.

"Oh! I – er – get carsick, when I read. I forgot." Then she went back to looking out the window into the darkness.

Hermione was both sad and angry at the same time. She missed Ron and Harry, so very much, but she was angry at them for not coming to get her. If Viktor Krum could do it, why couldn't her best friends pull through when she needed them? Whenever they had needed help on their homework, she had been there for them. When Ron's _sister_ needed a shoulder to cry on after breaking up with various boyfriends, Hermione had been there every time. But when she needed Ron or Harry, where were they? Nowhere. Seven months, and Viktor comes from Bulgaria.

If there was an explanation for the absence of her so-called best friends, she'd like to hear it, because she doubted it would be a good one.

But who cares? Who really cares?

"I don't." Hermione muttered forcefully to herself. She didn't need them. She didn't need anyone. Viktor was there, and he was bringing her back into the wizarding world, and that was all that mattered. She didn't need Harry or Ron, she didn't need them.

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**A/N: **AHA! How's THAT for a surprise? Did anyone out there see Viktor coming? Anyone? Muahahaha. Yea, actually, I didn't either. I wrote this entire chapter, believe it or not, with Ron as the one who left the note and everything. But then I got feedback (hardly any feedback, cough cough, but some) with people guessing it was Ron, and even though it was supposed to be obvious, I decided it was a bit too corny. So I surprised everyone, myself included, by rewriting the chapter with Viktor.

DON'T WORRY! THIS IS STILL A RON/HERMIONE STORY!!! Of course. Anyway...

Yea, I know, it was short. Only five pages on Microsoft Word, actually. That's one of my shortest yet. But I felt like if I combined it with another chapter it wouldn't have the same effect, because this chapter was basically created to show that it was Viktor Krum who came, and that's pretty much it. Sorry!

Please review! I'd really appreciate it!


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